Confess Your Sins
the one where you reunite with matt, your sunday school classmate after many years and you notice he still has his purity ring on (10.6K words)
Contains: smut, porn with plot, sacrilege, blasphemy, religious themes/imagery (in a church), religious trauma & guilt, corruption of innocence, dub-con (if you squint), handjob, oral (m receiving), brief f masturbation, fingering, breast/nipple play, unprotected piv, creampie, slight degradation, dirty talk, implied praise kink, virginity loss, sub!virgin inexperienced!matt x soft!dom experienced!fem reader (pls let me know if I left anything out!!)
⚠️ Warning: The type of content this fic contains may not be suitable for everyone. If you are uncomfortable with the contents listed above, PLEASE do not read ahead. This is simply written for the sake of fiction!
based on this request by: @sturnskiss
The second I crossed the county line, I felt it. That old, suffocating sweetness this town wore like cheap perfume. Homemade pies, clean-cut lawns, and front porches that doubled as gossip pulpits. My phone buzzed with a new voicemail from my mother. Number eight. I didn’t need to listen. I already knew what it said.
“Will you be joining us for church on Sunday?”
As if there was ever a real question.
Coming home always felt like squeezing into a dress I outgrew. Everyone expected me to play nice, smile politely, say grace at dinner, and keep my belly button piercing hidden. It was adorable, really, the way they clung to the idea of who I used to be… the sweet little girl who went to Sunday school, memorized Bible verses, and asked too many questions that made the pastor uncomfortable.
College had shaken that out of me fast.
Now I had sharp corners. I drank and got stoned often, faked orgasms when men didn’t listen, and I said things that made small-town boys flinch. But family was family, and I did miss them, in a weirdly warm, tolerable kind of way. So here I was. Back for the summer, playing pretend for a few weeks and letting my mom think she still had some kind of pull over me.
So when she asked if I’d come to church this weekend, I said yes. Smiled, even.
Let them have their illusion. One more hymn wouldn’t kill me.
Sunday came like clockwork. I threw on a black sundress that showed just enough cleavage to make the deacons sweat. If I had to go, I’d at least go looking hot enough to stir some guilt. Let someone pray about that.
The church looked the same as it always had. Same chipped paint on the sign and same gravel lot that scraped under my shoes. Inside, the air was thick with floral perfume and aftershave. My mom beamed as we entered, waving to half the town like she was running for office. I gave a few tight smiles and kept my eyes on the stained glass, letting the colours blur into something softer.
We slid into a pew, front row-adjacent. I crossed my legs and glanced around, recognizing faces I hadn’t seen in years. Some older, some with babies, and some exactly the same. I leaned back against the wood, fingers tapping against my thigh, bored.
The choir finished their last chorus and the pastor stepped up, all puffed chest and pasted-on smile. His voice rang out loud and smooth, “When we stray from the Word, we open the door for corruption. For temptation. For the devil to whisper into our hearts.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“We must remain pure. In body and in thought. For even thinking sinfully is a gateway to eternal separation.”
Okay.
I blinked slowly, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. I glanced down the pew at my mom, who was nodding along, gripping onto every word of his. The man next to me whispered amen. A teenager in the row behind me scribbled notes like it was gospel truth.
Meanwhile, I was sitting there wondering if anyone else noticed how half the congregation clearly was thinking sinfully. Especially the deacon, who hadn’t stopped sneaking glances at the choir girl’s legs since she walked up to the podium.
I shifted in my seat and let my gaze wander, anything to keep from scoffing out loud.
The sermon had taken a nosedive into predictable territory, the usual warnings about temptation, the flesh being weak, and modern culture being a cesspool of sin. I was mid eyeroll, when I caught a glimpse of someone in the first row, across the aisle.
At first, I just registered the back of his head. Brown hair, cropped short but soft looking. Then his profile, the curve of his cheekbone, and the slope of his nose. And something about it tugged at me.
I leaned forward slightly, pretending to fix my sandal just to get a better look.
He turned, just a little, but enough. And then it hit me.
No fucking way.
Matt Sturniolo, from Sunday school. From crafts and cookies and that one time he let me copy the memory verse when I forgot mine and panicked. I hadn't seen him since we were maybe thirteen. Back then, he was quiet and lanky, and had braces so big he could barely close his mouth.
Now he looked like a grown man, and looked hot.
He was sitting up straight, posture perfect, with his hands folded neatly in his lap. His button-down was light blue and crisp. His face was clean-shaven, still sweet, almost boyish, but his jawline was sharp enough to make me want to bite my lip.
He even had earrings now. Small silver hoops, one in each ear. The kind that screamed quiet rebellion, like maybe he wasn’t completely untouched by the world after all.
He smiled faintly as the pastor spoke, nodding along, soaking in every word like he actually believed it.
I sat there, stunned. There was no way that little church boy grew up into that.
My focus was locked onto him, and I didn’t care if it was obvious. Everything else, the sermon, the choir, and the thick scent of incense, had all now dulled into background noise.
After the service, the congregation spilled out onto the front lawn, all chatter and sunshine. I stepped outside behind my mom, sunglasses slipping on like armor, and scanned the crowd to find Matt again.
And when I did, he was standing off to the side, talking to some older woman I vaguely recognized as someone’s grandmother. His hands were clasped in front of him, shoulders slightly hunched like he was trying not to take up space. He nodded politely at whatever she said, but I saw the way his foot tapped softly against the grass, like he was ready for an exit.
Perfect.
I veered towards him like it was accidental. The woman gave me a nod as she wandered off, and just like that, Matt and I were face to face.
He blinked. Once. And then twice.
“Matt Sturniolo…” I said, a slow grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Now that’s a blast from the past.”
His eyes widened. He opened his mouth, then closed it again like he’d forgotten how to speak. “I—yeah. Wow. Hi.”
God, he was so cute and awkward. And standing way too straight like he didn’t know where to put his hands.
“You probably don’t remember me.” I continued, even though I knew he did. “Sunday school. I sat two chairs behind you.”
He let out a soft, sheepish laugh. “No, I remember. You, uh… asked a lot of questions. The teachers never quite knew what to do with you.”
“They still don’t.” I smirked, tilting my head. “But you’ve grown up.”
My comment visibly flustered him. He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze dipping for a second before snapping back to mine. “Thanks. You, uh. You too. I mean… not that you weren’t before. But now—”
“You can stop before you bury yourself any deeper.” I teased.
He went quiet, lips pressed into a tight line. His hands fidgeted, tugging at the edge of his sleeves, and I could see the effort it took for him to maintain eye contact.
I took a step closer. “You always this nervous, or is it just me?”
His throat bobbed. “Just… surprised, I guess.”
“Mm. Bet you didn’t expect to see me here.”
“Not really.” He smiled, small and genuine. “You’re… kind of hard to forget.”
There was something in the way he said it. Soft and honest. A little breathless.
I didn’t even have to flirt. All I had to do was be.
“So,” I said, arms crossing lightly as I looked him over again, slower this time, just to watch his posture stiffen. “What’ve you been up to? You stuck around, huh?”
He nodded, hands still fiddling with the sleeve. “Yeah, I stayed. I help out with the youth group sometimes. Volunteer a lot. Got a job at the community center downtown. It’s… nice.”
“Nice.” I repeated, letting the word sit between us. “That sounds very… pure of you.”
He chuckled, but it came out quiet. “I guess so.”
I tilted my head, watching him with a growing sense of curiosity. “Still got that purity ring too, I see.”
His fingers instinctively curled over it.
“Y–Yeah.” he said, eyes lowering. “Still… you know. Waiting… for the one.”
God, his voice. That awkward honesty. The way his ears were already turning pink.
“Good for you.” I grinned, not even trying to hide my amusement. “Commitment like that is rare these days.”
He shrugged, like he didn’t know what to say. “What about you?” he asked, finally daring to meet my eyes. “You still… involved with the church?”
I smiled, slow and sly. “Not exactly.”
That made him pause. “Oh?”
“I left all that behind when I moved away.” I said, glancing out towards the street like the memory didn’t matter. “Stopped going. Stopped pretending.”
His brow furrowed, just barely. “But you’re here.”
“Mmhm.” I nodded. “Family roped me in. One morning service. Figured I could survive it.”
I turned back to him, letting the moment stretch, and letting the quiet hang heavy between us. “You look like you still take it seriously, though.”
“I try.” he said softly.
I stepped in, just a little closer. Close enough to see the faintest freckle on his nose. Close enough that I knew he could smell my perfume.
“You always were the good one.” I said, tone teasing but laced with something thicker. “Helping with crafts, memorizing verses, and raising your hand like it meant something.”
He flushed again, this time deeper.
And I smiled like I knew exactly what I was doing. Because I did.
I let my gaze drift across his face, slower this time. From his blue eyes to the faint line of his throat, following the flutter of his pulse. The way his chest moved when he breathed in, shallow and uncertain. My eyes looked down to his hands, they were big, veined, and fidgeting. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. He swallowed thickly.
“You, uh… look really different now.” he said after a second, voice quiet and almost rushed.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean… in a good way. Just… grown up. A lot.”
I tilted my head, my tongue gliding over my front teeth. “So have you, Matt.”
He went still.
I smiled, slow and easy, like I wasn’t watching him unravel from the inside out. “You filled out nicely.” I added, my voice light but cutting, just enough heat tucked beneath the surface. “Didn’t expect that.”
His mouth parted. A single breath caught on his tongue, like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the nerve.
“You always get this quiet when girls talk to you?”
His eyes met mine, wide and glassy. “N–No. Not really.”
“You’re so cute.”
I watched his lips part again, but nothing came out.
Instead, I smiled wide and easy. “Well,” I said, tilting my head slightly. “We should properly catch up sometime.”
His eyes lit up, hopeful in that painfully naïve kind of way. “Yeah? That’d be… nice.”
I took a step back, but kept my gaze locked on his. “You seem like someone who prefers quiet places. Somewhere familiar.”
He nodded a little too quickly.
“We could meet here again.”
“Here?”
“Why not?” I shrugged. “You already spend your time volunteering and worshipping. Might as well have one more wholesome night on the church grounds.”
His mouth opened, then closed. He clearly didn’t know what to do with that sentence, but he liked the sound of it anyway.
“No one’s around at night.” I added, voice feather-light. “It’d be just us. I figured that’s more your scene.”
He stared at me for a second too long. Then nodded again, slowly. “Okay. Yeah. That sounds… good.”
I smiled sweetly, already knowing he had no idea what he had just agreed to.
“Great.” I said, backing away. “I’ll see you soon then.” I turned on my heel before I could smirk but God, I wanted to so badly.
The church looked different at night. Empty parking lot and no choir echoes. Just the creak of the old sign in the breeze and the hum of cicadas somewhere in the dark. The stained glass didn’t glow without the sun, and the building looked almost dull without its congregation.
I sat on the front steps, a cigarette burning slowly between my fingers. I exhaled, watching the smoke curl upwards, and then heard gravel crunching under hesitant footsteps.
And there he was. Matt. Wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, hands shoved into his pockets, and head bowed like he wasn’t sure if he should’ve came tonight. His hair was a little messier than before. Softer and less polished. But that truly caught my attention was his arm. His tattooed arm. A full sleeve. Black and gray ink with delicate shading. Most probably from his shoulder down to his wrist.
My brows lifted before I could help it. “Well, well. Would you look at that.”
He blinked, then followed my gaze down to his arm. “Oh,” he said quickly, like he’d forgotten it was even visible. “Yeah. I—um. I usually wear long sleeves to service.”
I took a drag from my cigarette, with my eyes still on him. “Clearly.”
“They’re, uh… all personal. Like, meaningful.” His voice was soft. Like he thought I might judge him for it.
I flicked ash onto the concrete and gave him a long, appreciative once-over. “I like it.” I said honestly. “Didn’t expect it. But I like it.”
His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Thanks.”
I smiled, crooked and teasing. “Guess you’re not entirely innocent.”
He ducked his head, the tips of his ears turning pink again, but he smiled too.
Fuck, he was too adorable.
“Alright, let’s go inside.” I said, standing up before extinguishing my cigarette under my shoe.
The heavy door creaked open, and the warm air inside wrapped around us quick. The church smelled the same as always, like wood polish, candle wax, and something faintly floral. I let the door fall shut behind us and walked a few paces down the aisle, my shoes soft against the worn carpet. Matt followed quietly, a few steps behind.
At night the church felt and looked something else entirely. No chatter or echo of footsteps from people filing in late. Just silence, soft shadows, and the occasional groan of the old building settling. It wasn’t eerie. Not really.
The long aisle stretched ahead like a path, and the walls… they looked taller somehow. More looming. The way cathedral ceilings always do when you’re alone beneath them, like they’re watching.
Only a few dull lamps glowed from the sidewalls, casting flickers across the old stone, and at the far end, the altar bathed in a warm pool of candlelight. Rows of votives shimmered gently against polished wood and gold accents, making the stained-glass panels above look like faded murals. Without sunlight pouring through them, the saints and angels bled into the dark, their colors muted, and their eyes unreadable.
“Creepy?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
He shook his head. “Peaceful.” Of course he’d say that.
I slowed until we were walking side by side between the pews, our hands brushing once by accident. He shoved his in his pockets again, ever the good Christian boy.
“Can’t believe you’ve got a whole sleeve under your Sunday shirts.” I said, glancing at his arm again. “What else are you hiding, Matt?”
He chuckled, nervous. “That’s kind of it, honestly.”
“No dark secrets? No late night rebellion? You didn’t go wild in college?”
He looked down at the floor, shaking his head. “Didn’t really party much. I went to a Christian university. Lived at home most of the time.”
I raised a brow. “And the virgin thing? Still actually true?”
He cleared his throat, his voice suddenly scratchy. “Yeah.”
The way he said it, so quietly, like he was confessing something that made him feel less than, pulled at something unexpected in me. But I didn’t let it soften me too much.
“Wow.” I said, stepping ahead of him just enough that he had to follow my lead. “So you’ve really never…”
“No.” he answered before I even finished the question. No hesitation. No shame, either. Just honesty. Like everything he gave me was clean and untouched.
I smiled to myself, walking slower now as we neared the front of the alter. I paused at the first pew and turned to face him fully.
“Well,” I said softly, tilting my head. “Now I’m curious what it’ll take to make you blush.”
And just like that, he did. Colour bloomed up his neck like wildfire. And I swore I saw his fingers twitch like he didn’t know whether to fold his hands or grab onto something to steady himself.
From the altar, the candlelight flickered, catching the shine in Matt’s eyes as he looked around. He stood with his hands in his pockets again, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. His posture was straight and polite, like the space demanded it of him.
“I like how different it feels.” I said softly, gazing up at the arches that curved above us. “Less pressure to pretend.”
Matt glanced over, surprised at my words. “You feel like you have to pretend?”
“Mm. Don’t we all?” I smiled without warmth. “This place loves the idea of me. Not the real me.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. I could tell by the way his mouth parted and shut again. So I stepped a little closer, tilting my head like I was genuinely curious.
“So,” I started, voice lighter now, teasing. “Besides hiding all that sick ink, what else does our favourite church boy keep under wraps?”
He smiled nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I mean… I’m not hiding anything.”
“You sure? Nothing you sneak off to do at night that might get you in trouble?”
He blinked. “Like… coming home too late from the movies?”
I laughed. It slipped out louder than I meant, echoing slightly. “You’re too cute, Matt.”
He flushed hard, pink blooming from his cheeks down to his collarbone.
“I mean, I listen to music that can have explicit lyrics at times, I guess. And I swear sometimes. In my head.”
“Ohh, dangerous.” I whispered dramatically, stepping even closer now. “Any wild confessions about kissing girls?”
He swallowed hard. “No, um… not really.”
I tilted my head. “Not really?”
“I mean, I haven’t… I’ve never…”
He couldn’t finish it. The poor boy looked like the sentence alone might catch fire if he said it out loud.
So I did it for him. Carefully. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”
His eyes met mine, soft and honest. “No.”
And there it was. that sweet and unguarded truth again, laid bare like it was the most normal thing in the world. Without any shame.
I didn’t say anything right away. Just let the moment sit there between us for a beat.
“You ever think about it?” I asked finally.
His jaw clenched. “Sometimes.” he said.
And I saw it, the flicker behind his eyes, the tiny shift in his breath. He definitely thought about it more than sometimes. He just didn’t have the words for the things he wanted.
I tilted my head, still watching him. His eyes had softened, lips parted like he wasn’t sure whether to speak or keep breathing. I could see the pulse jumping in his throat again.
“Would you like to try?” I asked casually, like I hadn’t just dropped a grenade between us.
His brow furrowed, confused. “Try what?”
I smirked. “Kissing.”
He went still. Like his brain had short-circuited and needed a minute to reboot.
I took a step closer. “You said you’ve never kissed anyone.”
“I—yeah. I haven’t.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
My hand grazed the side of his arm as I moved in front of him. “Relax. You’ll still technically be a virgin when it’s over.” My tone was teasing, but gentle. “Unless kisses count as unholy now.”
He let out a breathy laugh, one that sounded more like a nervous huh. I saw the panic flicker in his eyes but under it, curiosity burned brighter.
I didn’t wait for a yes.
I just stepped in, closing the distance, and leaned up until my lips softly brushed his, just enough pressure to feel the shape of his mouth. He didn’t move at first, frozen like he might break something. But he didn’t pull back either.
And when I kissed him again, a little firmer, I felt it… the moment he gave in. The tension uncoiling in his shoulders, the soft breath that escaped through his nose, and the tilt of his head, unsure but trying, so clearly trying.
I pulled back the tiniest bit, just to look at him. “Put your hands on my waist.”
He obeyed. Hesitant, warm palms settling on my sides, unsure if he was allowed to hold on or if this was some dream he might wake up from.
I slid one hand behind his neck, fingers weaving into the back of his hair, and the other found his jaw. He twitched slightly beneath my touch but didn’t stop me. My thumb swept across his cheekbone, and I felt him sigh.
Then I kissed him again, slower and deeper, coaxing him open as my tongue licked across his lower lip.
He gasped, and I took the opportunity to slide into his mouth, tasting him.
And Matt… sweet Matt… he followed beautifully.
A little clumsy and a little stiff around the edges. But eager. And when he finally tilted his head the right way, our lips melted into each other so easily. I moaned into it, just to feel him shudder.
It was funny, really. Usually, where we were standing, newly married couples kissed. After reading vows and verses about loyalty, love, and purity.
I kissed him once more before I drew back, just enough where I could still feel his breath against my lips.
His eyes blinked open, dazed and glassy.
“You okay?” I murmured, brushing my thumb over his flushed cheek.
He nodded, his lips still slightly parted, pink and kiss-bitten.
I leaned in once more and pressed a final kiss to the corner of his mouth, letting it linger, just a second too long to be chaste. He shivered. When I pulled away, I smiled. “You did so well, Matt.”
His breath hitched like that praise alone short-circuited his nervous system.
I watched him try to speak, but the words didn’t quite come. His hands were still on my waist, but looser now, like he didn’t remember putting them there. I watched him try to catch his breath, his lashes fluttering like his thoughts were too loud to focus. Poor thing looked like he’d just been kissed by sin herself. Which, to be fair, wasn’t far off.
I let the silence stretch just a little longer. Then I tilted my head towards the dark wooden booth behind us, the confessional tucked just off to the side of the altar. “You wanna confess and repent for that kiss?” I asked lightly, tone teasing, but my eyes didn’t waver.
His gaze followed mine. His expression tightened, a flicker of shame, or maybe confusion, or maybe both. He bit down gently on his lower lip, gaze shifting between me and the booth.
“I don’t know.” he said finally, voice soft. “Should I?”
The way he asked, like he genuinely wasn’t sure whether to cry or fall to his knees, it made something in me twist.
I chuckled quietly. “You look like you’re about to either bolt or beg for forgiveness.”
He didn’t answer. Just looked away, ashamed.
I softened, just enough to ground him. “I don’t want you freaking out later.” I said. “Or regretting something because it sat too heavy on your conscience.”
Matt looked back at me slowly, eyes wide and searching. God, he was trying so hard to be good.
So I gently reached for his hand, and slid my fingers between his. “Come on.” I murmured. “Let’s get you to the confessional. Might help.”
He let me lead him, steps small and unsure as we approached the booth.
The confessional loomed tall and dark, carved from thick wood, and the curtain drawn open just enough to reveal the narrow bench inside. The air around it felt colder somehow, like the space still carried the weight of everyone who’d ever whispered secrets into its walls.
I pulled the curtain aside and gestured towards the bench. “After you.”
Matt hesitated, but then stepped inside and sat down.
I followed, pulling the curtain mostly shut behind us. The wooden panel groaned softly as I settled in beside him.
It was cramped and shadowed. Quiet in a different way than the rest of the church… almost heavier.
He sat with his hands in his lap, still not looking at me. But I could feel it. The tension and the heat from his skin. The way he hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss.
Neither did I.
He opened his mouth like he was about to speak, maybe even start with a confession or to just breathe, but he didn’t get the chance.
Because I saw it. The strain in his jeans. The obvious, awkward tent pressing up at the fabric between his thighs.
I let a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth. “Well, before you get into all that repenting… looks like something else might be weighing on you.”
His brows furrowed, confused for a beat. Until he followed my gaze. And saw exactly what I meant.
His whole face flushed, red creeping all the way down his neck. “I—no—I didn’t mean—” He started fumbling, words tripping over each other as he tried to reposition his legs, trying to hide the obvious. “Sorry, I don’t… it just happened—”
“It’s okay.” I said simply, cutting through the panic in his voice. “Really.”
He blinked at me, flustered beyond belief.
“Do you want help with that?”
Matt froze. “W–What?”
I nodded towards the problem in his lap, speaking casually, like it was the most natural offer in the world. “You’re clearly… tense. I could help. If you want.”
His hands fidgeted, gripping the hem of his shirt like it might save him. “No, I—thank you, but—”
And that’s when I “accidentally” brushed my hand across his thigh. Just a light touch. Barely grazing the outline of him through his jeans.
But Matt jolted like he’d been hit by lightning. His body stiffened and his breath caught. His hands froze mid-motion like he wasn’t sure if he should pull away or lean in.
I smiled, slow and wicked. “You sure?” I murmured, fingers still resting close. “Because your mouth says no, but the rest of you…” I shifted slightly, leaning in so my thigh pressed against his. The confessional suddenly felt even smaller.
I could practically see the war going on behind his eyes. Guilt versus curiosity. Fear versus want. His body had already picked a side.
“Hey,” I said gently, softening just enough to ground him. “You don’t have to be scared. I promise you’ll feel better.” He swallowed hard. “And if it helps, you can repent for this later too.” I added with a quiet laugh
That earned a shaky breath from him. Not quite a laugh, or a protest either. He didn’t move away, or pull my hand back when I reached for the button of his jeans. He just sat there, frozen and flushed, eyes flicking to mine like he was checking for permission that he’d already given without realizing it.
“Is this okay?” I asked calmly.
He hesitated for half a second. Then nodded. Barely, but enough.
That was all I needed. “Good.”
My fingers worked the button free, unhurried, then slid the zipper down that felt far too loud in the quiet booth. Matt sucked in a sharp breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bench like he needed something solid to hold onto.
“Lift up a little for me.” I said casually, like I wasn’t dismantling his entire belief system one inch at a time.
He did it immediately. Obedient without even thinking about it.
I tugged his jeans down just enough to free him, the fabric catching briefly before giving way. He let out the smallest sound, half gasp and half whine, and then went very, very still.
His cock sprang free, flushed, thick and aching against the cooler air. The head was a pretty shade of pink, already glistening, pulsing ever so slightly as though it had been waiting, no, begging, for this.
I glanced up at him, eyes warm and amused. “Such a good boy.”
And the way his shoulders sagged at that, with relief, want, and surrender all tangled together, told me he was already too far gone to turn back now.
I exhaled a slow, appreciative breath. “Well, you’re just… pretty all over, aren’t you?”
Matt let out a choked sound, somewhere between a whimper and a groan, and pressed his head back against the wood behind him like he was trying to disappear into it.
His entire body was strung tight, his fists clenched on the bench, his thighs tense, and his chest rising like he hadn’t remembered how to breathe since I touched him.
I grazed the backs of my knuckles up the length of him, featherlight. Just enough to make him flinch. “Have you ever touched yourself?” I asked, my voice soft and curious.
His breath stuttered. He didn’t answer right away. But then, “Once.”
I raised a brow. “Just once?”
He nodded, eyes shut tight.
“And?”
His voice cracked. “I repented. It felt… wrong.”
I let out a sympathetic laugh, stroking his thigh slowly with one hand while the other hovered just above his lap. “Poor thing.” Matt’s jaw flexed. “That must’ve been one hell of a confession.
He nodded again, eyes still closed like if he didn’t look at me, it would feel less real.
I dipped my head closer, lips near his ear. “Want me to show you how right it can feel instead?”
His whole body shivered. But still, he didn’t say no.
I let my fingers finally wrap around him slowly, watching the way his cock twitched helplessly in my grip. He was so warm and so hard. The skin was velvety and taut, veins standing out against the flush that ran all the way from base to tip. I stroked once, slow and gentle, just to feel the weight of him.
Matt let out a soft gasp, high and shaky, and his hips jerked like the pleasure was too sharp, too much, and too fast.
“Breathe, baby.” I whispered, smiling.
He tried. He really did. His chest rose in tight, uneven bursts, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his mouth parted in a constant stream of soft pants.
I kept stroking him, lazy and light. Long, teasing pulls from base to tip. Just enough pressure to make him whine. I twisted my wrist on the upstroke and watched his thighs twitch. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
He nodded, voice caught somewhere between a moan and a prayer.
“Yeah.” I cooed, licking my lips. “You’re doing so good.”
His head tipped back, mouth falling open, and lashes fluttering as if the weight of sensation alone was dragging him under. He looked wrecked already, flushed pink from cheek to neck, like his body wasn’t used to being touched this way, and like he didn’t know what to do with pleasure that didn’t come tangled in shame.
I leaned in a little closer, brushing my lips against his jaw while my hand kept moving. “You’re allowed to feel good, Matt. You’re allowed to want this.”
His hips gave a tiny, involuntary thrust, chasing the rhythm of my strokes, and he whimpered again.
I gripped him just a little firmer now, smoothing my thumb over the slick head, gathering the precum that leaked from him freely. He was throbbing, pulsing hot in my hand, and I could tell already he wasn’t going to last long. But that was okay.
I let my grip tighten just a little as I started to move faster, the sound of my hand sliding over him obscene in the quiet booth. His breathing turned uneven almost immediately, short little pants spilling from his parted lips as his hips twitched in place.
“Just like that.” I husked, eyes locked on his face. “You’re doing so good for me.”
His cheeks burned red, his lashes fluttering like the praise alone was enough to undo him. He let out a soft, broken noise, somewhere between a whine and a plea, and I smiled.
“Breathe.” I reminded him gently, pumping him with steady, practiced strokes. “Slow it down. In through your nose. That’s it.”
I slid my thumb over the head again, smearing the bead that had formed there, watching his whole body jolt.
“Oh—” His voice cracked, hips rocking forward instinctively.
“Easy.” I said, firm but kind. I leaned closer, my voice dropping, filthy now. “Look at you. All flushed and hard, shaking just from my hand. You feel how good that is?”
He nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Mmph! Y–Yeah.” he stuttered.
“Tell me how it feels.” I coaxed, pumping him a little faster now, wrist rolling just enough to make his breath hitch.
His fingers dug into the edge of the bench. “It feels… really good.”
I hummed approvingly. “That’s my good boy.”
The words hit him harder than my hand ever could. His hips jerked again, thighs tensing, and a needy sound tearing from his throat as he thrusted into my grip.
“Mm, look at you.” I praised softly. “You’re doing so well. Letting me take care of you.”
He whimpered, helpless and aching.
I stroked him faster now, relentless but controlled, watching his chest heave, his mouth fall open, and his entire focus narrowing down to the way my hand moved on him.
“I’m gonna make it feel so much better.” I said, dipping my head lower near his thigh, my voice utterly sultry.
He barely had time to process what I said. His lips parted, brows scrunching like he was about to ask what I meant… but then I took him in my mouth.
His entire body jerked like I had shocked him. He let out a strangled, broken moan, head knocking back against the confessional wall with a soft thud. My lips sealed around the thick head of his cock, and I moaned loudly, just from his taste alone.
The vibration sent him reeling. “Oh my—oh my God.” he gasped, voice high and breathless.
I bobbed slowly, deliberately, letting my tongue slide along the underside of him, savoring the way he twitched helplessly. He was thick and heavy on my tongue, flushed dark pink and leaking sweetly. I licked up the spill without hesitation, then sucked him back in deeper, humming as I went.
He whimpered loudly. The kind of sound that could’ve echoed in that tight little booth if I hadn’t swallowed it with another wet suck. “S–Shit.”
My mouth worked him with purpose, tongue teasing the sensitive ridge beneath the tip while I stroked the rest of him with my hand. The sloppy, wet sounds between us were so filthy, and so wrong in a space like this, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.
I pulled back with a pop just to breathe, lips glistening and chin slick, before dragging my tongue all the way up his shaft with a moan that made his knees shake.
“You’re so sensitive.” I said, my voice ragged. “So fucking responsive.”
Matt could barely speak. His eyes were glassy, his mouth open, and his fingers curled against the wooden seat like he didn’t trust himself to touch me back.
So I took him in again, deeper this time, and hollowed my cheeks.
He cried out, hips jerking before he froze again, as if moving even slightly might shatter whatever restraint he had left.
I didn’t stop. Didn’t give him a chance to breathe. Just sucked, licked, and moaned for him, like I was starved and he was all I’d ever wanted. And from the wrecked sounds spilling from his throat, he was already unraveling.
“Grab my hair.” I instructed, my voice thick with heat, and my mouth already wet from everything he’d spilled so far.
Matt blinked down at me, dazed, still trying to hold himself back. Sweet thing, was always trying to be good, but I didn’t give him time to hesitate. I sucked him back in, deep, moaning around his cock.
His hand found my head fast, trembling fingers threading through my hair with such hesitant care it nearly made me laugh.
“You’re not gonna hurt me.” I mumbled against his skin, lips dragging along the flushed underside of his cock. “Hold it tight.”
And he obeyed.
My mouth worked him fast, hot, wet, and relentless, with my tongue swirling and my cheeks hallowing. The slick lewd sounds echoed off the confessional walls. Matt was gasping, falling apart above me, hips barely twitching like he still couldn’t bring himself to thrust.
And then I felt it. The way he stiffened, the way his hand flexed in my hair, and the stuttering of his breath.
“I—” he choked out. “I’m gonna—” I didn’t stop. He groaned, ragged and wrecked, trying so hard to hold back. “Wait—I shouldn’t—I can’t—”
I pulled off just enough to speak, licking the tip with a filthy swipe. “I want to know how you taste, Matt.” Then I took him again, letting him hit the back of my throat, and letting the weight of him sit heavy on my tongue. I bobbed harder now, faster, my hand stroking the base in rhythm as my mouth sucked, worked, and ruined.
He came undone. With a sound I’d never forget, part sob and part desperate cry, Matt came in my mouth. His hand tightened in my hair and his thighs shook like his entire body had given out. I swallowed him eagerly, letting him feel every second of it. His hips jolted a few times, and then he slumped back, breath ragged and chest heaving.
I licked him clean and then looked up and whispered, “Tastes even sweeter than I thought.”
Matt’s mouth parted in disbelief, completely and beautifully shattered.
I let him catch his breath, pulling back slowly and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand like I hadn’t just swallowed every drop of his first orgasm. He slumped against the wall, legs spread open, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. Poor baby looked completely undone.
But he was still so hard.
“Look at you.” I whispered, dragging my nails lightly down his inner thigh just to feel him twitch again. “Came so hard for me… but you’re still not satisfied, are you?”
Matt let out the softest whimper, eyes fluttering shut like he couldn’t handle seeing the look on my face. He covered it with his hand, embarrassed, but I wasn’t letting him hide.
I leaned up and gently pulled his hand away, my fingers laced with his, holding it between us.
“Shy now?” I asked, voice teasing. “After the way you moaned in my mouth like you were made to be fucked?”
He groaned, dropping his head back with another wrecked little noise leaving him when I palmed his thigh again. “Please, stop.”
“You were so good for me, Matt.” I purred. “So obedient. So eager. You let me take care of you… and you looked so fucking pretty while I did.”
His head turned, breath catching. “R–Really?”
“I’ve never heard anyone make sounds like that.” I nodded, licking my lips. “You whined. You sobbed. You begged without even realizing it.”
He whimpered again, completely wrecked.
I smirked. “You don’t even know what I could do to you next.”
His body shivered like he wanted to know. Like he’d follow me straight to hell in that moment if I crooked my finger just right.
I didn’t say another word as I stood in front of him, catching his dazed eyes as I pulled my shirt off over my head, and then shoved my pants down in one smooth movement, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties . His gaze dropped like a stone, mouth parting as he took in my bare skin, the way my breasts rose with each breath and the way he looked at me.
His eyes didn’t even try to be polite. They dropped instantly, dragging over every inch of exposed skin like he’d never seen a woman before. Which, to be fair, he kind of hadn’t. “You’re so… pretty.”
I brought my hands up and cupped my tits, squeezing softly. “You like them?” I asked, tilting my head as I threw him a sultry smile.
Matt swallowed hard. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. He looked absolutely stunned, with his pupils blown wide, but finally, finally, he nodded.
“Good. You can touch them.” I said with a grin. Then stepped between his legs and straddled his lap, my thighs bracketing his. His hands hovered, unsure of where to go, like he didn’t know what was allowed. Sweet thing. But when I reached for his wrists and guided them forward, pressing his palms to my chest, he melted.
His fingers curled automatically, gently cupping. I watched him the whole time, his mouth parted in awe, his breath shallow, and his eyes locked on my breasts like they were sacred.
I rolled my hips slowly against his, just enough to remind him I was practically naked and sitting right over where he was still hard. That earned me another shaky breath, his hands tightening just a little.
“You can squeeze them.” I whispered, leaning in just a little. “For now, they’re yours to play with.”
That was all it took. His hands came up slowly, fingers brushing along the curve of my sides before sliding up to cradle me. He was careful, almost too careful, and his thumbs ghosted over the material of my bra like he thought he might get in trouble for it. Yet, I still felt him throb beneath me
I arched slightly into his hands, my body pressing closer, and that pulled a quiet, needy breath out of him.
He stared, utterly transfixed, like my body was the most beautiful, forbidden thing he’d ever laid eyes on. I could feel how hard he was beneath me, and could see the struggle in his eyes as he tried to balance his guilt and desire.
“Good boy.” I praised him, letting my fingers rake back through his hair. “Mmm… just like that.”
Matt let out a shaky exhale, his hands trembling slightly as they stayed pressed to the swell of my chest, and his gaze never once lifted from where he was touching me.
And I hadn’t even unclipped my bra yet.
“Take it off.” I husked, nodding towards the back of my bra.
Matt blinked like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right, but I only shifted forward a little, giving him better access. His hands fumbled for the clasp, fingers trembling as he tried to undo it. I felt the hook slip once, then again, before it finally came undone with a soft snap. The straps slid down my arms, and I let the bra fall to the floor.
His breath caught hard. His eyes dropped to my now bare chest, wide and stunned like he’d just walked in on a religious revelation. I didn’t speak. I just let him take a good look.
Then I reached down, brushing his cheek with my thumb. “You can kiss them.” I told him, my voice low and breathy. “Use your mouth.”
I gently guided him forward until his lips brushed against my breast, and that first, hesitant press of his mouth made my spine arch. He kissed again, then hesitantly ran his tongue over my nipple, warm and slow.
“Yeah.” I sighed, threading my fingers into his hair. “Just like that. God, that feels good…”
He grew bolder with every sound I made, lips opening, tongue flicking and swirling around the peak before his mouth closed over it with a soft, eager suck. My head dropped back on a low moan as I rocked in his lap, hips moving in slow, shallow grinds against his thick length.
Matt groaned into my skin, hands flying to my hips like he suddenly couldn’t bear to let me go. His fingers gripped tight, digging into the curve of my waist as he held me there, dragging me down against him harder as he sucked deeper.
“Ohh, baby.” I gasped, my thighs clenching around him. “You feel so good.”
I shifted just slightly, letting his cock rub perfectly between my folds through my panties, pressure mounting in waves as he moved between one breast and the other, licking and mouthing both like he needed to.
He looked up at me once, lips moist and eyes dark, and that single glance had my whole body tensing, breath catching as pleasure curled low and hot in my belly.
Matt might not have done this before, but he was a fast learner. And I was more than happy to be his first lesson.
My hand slid up to cradle the back of his head, holding him where I needed him as he suckled eagerly at my left breast, tongue flicking and mouth warm. The pull of it made my hips jerk forward, grinding down against him as I softly panted above him. But I wanted more.
“Matt, baby…” I breathed, threading my fingers through his hair. “Use your hand. Play with the other one.”
He froze for a split second, like he needed to reboot, then nodded against my skin. One hand slid up, shaky but determined, and found the untouched nipple. His thumb brushed it carefully, then circled, then finally pinched just the way I wanted.
“Oh—yeah, fuck, just like that.” I gasped, hips grinding harder as his mouth kept working, tongue stroking and lips sucking while his hand kneaded the other breast. The mix of wet heat and pressure was overwhelming in the best way.
I couldn’t help the way I rocked against him, the friction making me go insane, and my panties were soaked through now. His hands were trembling, his lips still locked on my breast like he didn’t dare to stop, and I could feel how tight he held my waist, like he needed me just as bad as I needed to fall apart.
I dragged his mouth a little tighter to me, moaning when he let out a low, helpless groan against my skin. “You’re doing so good for me, Matt.” I panted. “So fucking good.”
Every suck of his mouth made my body jerk. The wet heat of his tongue, and the clumsy confidence in his hands as he played with my breasts just like I told him. I could barely think with how tight the pressure was coiling in my belly, how empty I felt despite the way I rocked in his lap.
His cock, thick and flushed, was pressed right against my soaked center. Just the thin barrier of my panties, stretched damp over the aching mess between my legs. Grinding wasn’t enough. I needed so much more. So I gave it to myself.
I slid one hand down between us, curling under the band of my panties, fingers slipping through the wetness gathered at my entrance. My middle finger found my clit instantly and I gasped, hips jolting against him as I started to rub slow, tight circles.
Matt froze for half a second when he realized what I was doing. Then he pulled back, lips slick from my nipple, eyes wide and locked on the movement of my hand. His mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
I moaned again, louder this time, head falling back slightly. “M–Matt…” I hiccupped, still rubbing slow but firm, my hips shifting just enough to feel his warmth against me.
Matt let out a ragged breath, completely still now, like he was trying not to combust.
“You’re making me so fucking wet.” I moaned, my eyes catching his. “Look at me. I’m getting myself off just from you.”
His gaze dropped between us, watching the way my hand moved inside my panties, and the subtle drag of my hips against the length of his cock as I worked myself closer and closer.
“You wanna feel how wet I am?” I asked, biting my lip as a soft giggle slipped out.
Matt looked like he might die right there in the confessional.
I reached down, still burning, and caught his wrist. Matt blinked up at me, confused for a second, up until I dragged his hand down and slid it underneath.
His fingers stilled the moment they reached my folds, and he felt it, the warm and sticky heat, the way I was drenched for him, dripping from how good he made me feel.
He inhaled sharply, his lips falling slack. His entire body went rigid beneath me. “Jesus…” he whispered, barely audible.
I moaned just from the feel of his fingertips trembling against my sensitive skin. “See?” I breathed, pressing his palm closer. “You feel what you do to me?”
He swallowed hard, nodding slowly, his eyes flicking down like he still couldn’t believe it. “Y–Yes. Holy shit, you’re so wet.” he said, voice rough, almost scared.
I smirked, rolling my hips slightly against his hand. “Good. Now rub me.”
He hesitated. So I took control, guiding his fingers exactly where I needed them, pressing down on my clit as I moved his hand in steady circles. The contact made me gasp, my head tilting back and my mouth dropping open.
Matt was panting underneath me, stunned. Still watching.
“That’s it.” I moaned, still using his hand, speeding it up just a little. “Fuck, rub me just like that.” His eyes never left mine. “I want you to feel how tight I’m getting… how close I am…” I pressed his hand harder against me, fucking myself on his fingers without shame. “Do you feel that, Matt? That’s all your fault.”
He groaned like he didn’t know what to do with himself, his free hand gripping my hip, knuckles white, and his cock twitching against me with every desperate sound I let out.
“Fuck, you make me feel so good.” I whimpered. “I’m gonna cum all over your hand, sweet boy. Just keep touching me like that.”
And he did, trembling, flushed, and silent, watching me fall apart with nothing but his fingers.
“Do you…” I breathed, still guiding his fingers over my clit. “…want to feel me cum, Matt?”
His entire body tensed beneath me. I watched the way his brows twitched, the way his lips parted like he wasn’t sure he heard me right. His hand stilled, but I didn’t let go. I kept his fingers pressed right where I needed them.
My hips rolled again. “I mean really feel it. From the inside.”
His breath hitched and he blinked fast, trying to process my words without his brain short-circuiting. And then, like he couldn’t stop himself, he nodded. Quite eagerly. It almost made me laugh.
“Yeah,” I smirked, drawing back just enough to reach for the waistband of my panties. “Of course you do.” I slid them down slowly, teasing myself as much as him, letting the fabric peel away from my wet cunt until it dropped to the floor.
Matt’s eyes snapped down instantly and they stayed there. Locked between my thighs, mouth parted, and chest rising in uneven jerks as his cock twitched violently beneath me. I watched it jump, flushed and painfully hard, just inches from where it needed to be.
“Oh, baby.” I whined, palming his chest as I rolled my hips once, letting my fleshy folds slide along the length of him. “You’re so close…”
His hands grabbed my waist like he needed something to anchor him. His pupils were gone.
“You wanna feel me cum?” I asked again, this time quieter, filthier, as I reached down and took his cock in my hand. I ran it through my folds once, slowly, torturing the both of us.
Matt groaned out loud, it was guttural and it sounded so helpless.
I lined him up with one hand, holding his strained cock steady, the tip slick and twitching as it kissed my entrance.
“Relax.” I said, teasing myself with just the head. “Let me really take care of you now.”
Matt whimpered, actually whimpered, as I slowly started to sink down. The stretch burned just right. My thighs trembled from how tight he filled me, thick and so deep already, and I wasn’t even halfway.
“F–Fuck.” he choked out, his breath punching out of him. “You’re… oh my God.”
I couldn’t help the moan that spilled from me, head tilting back as my walls clenched around him, fluttering from how good the pressure was. My nails dug into his shoulders for balance as I dropped lower, inch by inch.
“You’re so big.” I panted, looking down at where we were joined. “Jesus, Matt. You’re filling me so fucking good.”
His hands clutched my waist like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I—” he started, his voice shaking. “You feel… you feel unreal. I can’t—I don’t…” He trailed off into a strangled groan as I finally took him to the hilt.
We both just sat there for a moment. Catching our breaths and shaking.
Wrapped around him, I could feel every twitch of his cock, and every tremble of his thighs under mine. He was looking up at me like I’d just rewritten the laws of the universe.
“You’re inside me, Matt.” I smiled, rocking just slightly, letting him feel how snug and tight I was. “You feel that?”
Matt nodded, a moan breaking in his throat.
“Say it.” I ordered gently, grabbing his jaw. “Tell me what you feel. How it feels.”
“I—” he gulped. “You’re so… warm. And tight. I—I don’t wanna move. It feels good.”
I smirked. “Oh, you’re gonna move. But right now? Just feel me. Let me fuck you nice and slow.” He let out a desperate noise as I started to roll my hips. “You’re doing so good for me.” I moaned, grinding deeper. “Letting me take your first time. Letting me ruin you.”
Matt whimpered again, eyes rolling slightly as his fingers clenched at my hips. “Please… don’t stop.”
“Of course not, baby.”
I couldn’t help myself, as I let the rhythm build faster. Once the stretch faded into full, blinding pleasure, I couldn’t hold back. I lifted myself just enough to feel the thick drag of his cock pulling against my walls, then dropped back down with a slap that made Matt gasp. Again and again.
The skin-on-skin contact was filthy. Wet and loud sounds echoed throughout the confessional with every bounce of my hips, and every slam of my ass against his thighs.
And Matt? He was falling apart. His hands were glued to my hips, digging in so tight he’d for sure leave marks. His jaw had dropped open, his eyes were glazed and blinking slowly like he couldn’t keep up with the overload.
“Shit—shit!” he choked, watching where our bodies met. “You feel so good.” He whimpered, the sound pathetic, needy, and hot as hell.
I grinned, hips snapping down even harder. “You like this?” I jeered. “Getting fucked in a fucking church like a dirty little sinner?”
Matt groaned, tossing his head back against the booth.
“You like having your first time like this? Not with some soft vanilla shit, but with me using you like a toy, soaking your cock, and moaning loud enough for even God to hear.”
He let out a strangled sound and bucked up helplessly, hips stuttering beneath me.
“You’re leaking inside me, Matt.” I purred, grinding a bit more slowly just to tease. “You gonna fill me up again with your cock?”
Matt looked completely feral now. Hair messy, mouth slack, and hands gripping so tight my skin burned.
“I want to.” he heaved, nodding his head aggressively. “Please, let me—please—”
I cut him off by slamming down hard again. The sound of my wet hole sucking him in was filthy.
“Then do it.” I growled. “Use me.”
I leaned forward, dragging my tongue up the column of his throat. Matt gasped, the sound catching somewhere between shock and need, his hips twitching beneath me. I kissed along his skin, slow and possessive, right beneath his ear, then over his jaw, letting my breath dance across his flushed cheek. He was panting now, sounding absolutely wrecked.
Then I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled. A choked moan escaped him as his head tipped back, neck bared, right where I wanted it.
I grinned wickedly. “You’ve never looked better.” And then I devoured him.
The kiss was messy. All spit, tongue, and teeth, my mouth crashing into his like I couldn’t get enough. I kissed him hard, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth and sucking before pushing my tongue past his lips again. Matt groaned so loud I felt it vibrate in my cunt.
He tried to kiss me back. bless him, fumbling and desperate. His lips chased mine, tongue clumsy and eager as he moaned into my mouth. I swallowed every sound. Drenched his jaw from our wet, sloppy kiss. I let him writhe under me like he didn’t know where his body ended and mine began.
And my hips never stopped. I was still riding him, hard and relentless, wet slaps echoing with every thrust down his cock, and every grind of his tip against my fluttering walls.
I pulled back just enough to pant against his lips. “Pretty boy, do you wanna cum?”
He nodded frantically, eyes blown wide, mouth still open and slick from the kiss. “Please.” he gasped. “I wanna cum—I wanna feel you too—I can’t hold it—please—”
I slammed down hard, grinding my hips in frantic circles, chasing that high like my life depended on it.
Matt was moaning beneath me, fingers bruising into my hips, and his cock twitching so violently I knew he was barely holding on. He was babbling something between “please” and “so close” but I couldn’t hear it. I could barely see. Everything inside me coiled tight, the pressure becoming unbearable. My thighs shook, my pussy clenched, and then I exploded.
A cry tore from my throat as my body locked up, heat flooding through me like a damn firestorm. My walls spasmed around him, cum gushing so hard I felt it spill, dripping down his cock in wet, slippery streams that soaked his lap and made the entire confessional smell like sin.
Matt’s breath hitched. “Oh my—fuck—” His whole body jerked, and then he came undone too.
I felt it. The twitch and the pulse. The sudden warmth spreading deep inside me as his cock throbbed and spilled everything he had in hot, thick spurts that made me moan all over again.
“Holy shit.” I gasped, still grinding gently, milking every last drop from him.
Matt could barely speak. His head lolled back, his chest heaving, and his pupils completely blown out, with his mouth hanging open.
I leaned forward, brushing away damp curls from his forehead as his chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. He looked completely fucked out, dazed, and was glowing in the soft light of the booth, cheeks still flushed and lips kiss-bruised.
He looked so sweet, I had to kiss him. But this time, much slower. I softly pressed my lips to his. The kind of kiss that said I saw him. That I wasn’t just here to use him, but take care of him too.
His hands moved up my sides, hesitant at first, then bolder, holding me with a new kind of admiration. When I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, he was already smiling. Shy, giddy, and looked so damn proud of himself.
“You did so good for me.” I smiled, stroking his cheek with the backs of my fingers. “So, so good, Matt.”
His smile widened, eyes lighting up with something soft, and perhaps even pride. His hands squeezed my waist and he let out the tiniest laugh, breathless and boyish, but so full of joy. “Yeah?” he asked, still catching his breath.
“Yeah.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “You were perfect.”
And I watched him absolutely glow.
Eventually, I shifted, slipping off his lap with a soft sigh. Matt let out the faintest whine at the loss of contact, eyes fluttering open like he was waking from a dream. His hands, which had been resting lazily on my thighs, slid off as I stood in front of him, utterly unbothered by the chaos we’d just caused.
He sat up slowly, bracing his arms on the bench, and that’s when he looked down. His eyes widened, “...Oh.”
The mess between his legs was foul. His softening cock lay glistening, streaked with white and flushed an angry pink. My slick was smeared across his skin and thighs. And between the fading ache of my orgasm and the heavy drip of his cum leaking down the inside of my leg, it was very clear just how thoroughly we’d defiled the sacred little space.
I watched his throat bob as he swallowed, still staring. I smirked, asking, “Regretting it?”
His head snapped up, eyes wide. “No—God, no.”
I laughed softly and reached for my shirt, beginning to dress myself again. Matt still sat there, ruined and bare, with his pants tangled around his ankles and the blush on his cheeks somehow deeper now than it was when I was on top of him, while the reality of what we’d done crept back into his consciousness. He watched me like he couldn’t believe I was real.
“Careful.” I said as I bent to grab my panties, flashing him a peek of everything he’d just had. “You keep looking at me like that and you’re gonna get hard again.”
“...Sorry.” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute.” I then nudged him to make a move to begin dressing himself too.
I waited until he zipped his jeans close, to drop the bomb on him I was waiting to detonate. “So,” I said, tilting my head. “You still planning on making that confession?”
His eyes flicked up to mine, wide as saucers. “I—”
“Because,” I smirked, “I was thinking you might wanna add premeditated lust, prolonged moaning, public indecency, and letting a heathen ride your lap in a church to the list.”
Matt’s face went red.
I winked. “Just trying to save you some Hail Marys, babe.”
And with that, I pulled open the curtain and stepped out, leaving poor sweet Matthew to pick up the pieces of whatever was left of his soul.
A/N: i'm gonna go put myself in a time out now :))
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